


Believe Me, I Love You

by WhenInDoubtSleep



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Bucky owns a flower shop, Florist Harry, Flower Language, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky Bingo 2019, This is so soft, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, flower shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 10:20:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenInDoubtSleep/pseuds/WhenInDoubtSleep
Summary: When Steve Rogers stumbles into veteran Bucky Barnes' flower shop, he doesn't expect to meet the love of his life (who may or may not be a green witch)This is just tooth-rotting fluff.





	Believe Me, I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! This is fill I1, Florist AU, for my Stucky Bingo card

The bell chimes at the front of Bucky’s shop, and he looks up from his flower arrangement, nimble hands stilling.

The man strides inside, shoulders back and chest forward. He looks to be on a mission. His golden hair falls across his forehead haphazardly.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Bucky drawls, setting his hands down on the counter in front of him. The man continues forward, not saying anything until he stands in front of Bucky, only separated by the counter. 

“I uh...flowers. I need flowers,” He says, eyebrows knitting together. Bucky just smiles, raising his eyebrows and glancing down at the flower arrangement in front of him.

“Yeah, I think we might have some,” he teased, chuckling at his own joke, “you looking for anything specific?” he asks, carefully lifting his current project, moving it aside. The blond man just stares at him, seeming exasperated. 

“I don’t know. My… friend just got a really big promotion, and I want to get her some flowers,” He explains, and Bucky hums, nodding. 

“Okay, so do you want a bouquet or an arrangement or a-”

“An arrangement, I think? Something pretty for her to keep on her counter?” He says, and Bucky nods again, grabbing a pen and a small notebook. 

“So your friend got a promotion, and you want her to have a congratulations flower arrangement? By when?” He asks, and Steve blushes, shrugging, “Does this friend happen to be a significant other?” 

The smaller man flushes a violent shade of pink, and bucky wonders if his chest also turns the color of an azalea. The smaller man shakes his head then, sighing and reaching up to shove his hair out of his eyes. 

“No, she’s not my girlfriend. When’s the soonest you can have it done by?” the blonde man asks, looking down at his feet. 

“Well, normally I’d say I need at least 24 hours in advance, but you seem kinda frazzled. It shouldn’t take me too long. An hour? It depends on how intricate the arrangement is,” He explained, “What’s she like?” 

“What?”

“Your friend. What’s she like? Will she appreciate something pink and classic, something daring? How traditional is she?” Bucky prompts, waiting for Steve to say something. 

Steve is quiet for a few seconds, his expression softening, “She’s… a firecracker. I don’t know if she has been traditional a day in her life. She’s ambitious and intelligent and she doesn’t take no for an answer,” Steve explains, and Bucky jots it all down, nodding. 

“Okay, so we do something bright but not incredibly traditional. Do you have any color preferences or do I get free reign?” Bucky asked, tucking his pen behind his ear. 

Steve shrugs, “I don’t care much as long as it’s done,” he says, and Bucky laughs, nodding. 

“Give me an hour, and I’ll give you the perfect arrangement,” he promises, staring down at his notebook for a minute before walking towards the back of the store, “You can stay if you want, there’s a small couch upfront,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing into the back to gather his materials. 

When he returns to the counter, carrying various flowers, he sees the small man sitting on the couch, looking around the shop curiously. 

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” he says, setting down the square vase and humming to himself as he began working. 

“Steve. It’s nice to meet you,” he says, his eyes trained on Bucky’s steady fingers. It’s beautiful, the sure, calculated movements, the way he places each flower so delicately, “I’m sorry I sprung this on you,” he adds, and Bucky just chuckles, not looking up. 

“It’s no big deal. I was making the other one for fun. I was bored,” He explains, frowning down at a particular flower, altering its placement, “besides, you seemed worried about it, and no one should be upset around the flowers. It isn’t good for them,” he adds casually, pausing his work to pull his hair back into a low bun. 

“It’s bad for them? What are you, one of them green witches?” he asks, and Bucky looks over at him with an amused smile. 

“Not a witch, just a guy who likes flowers,” He says, “I don’t know why it’s true. It just is. When I got back from Iraq, I tried to take care of plants again, but they kept dying,” He explains, going back to his work, “They didn’t stop dying until I stopped being upset in their presence. I don’t question the flowers, I just listen,” 

“Sounds witchy to me,” Steve muttered under his breath. Bucky started humming again, ignoring his comment, “You a veteran then?” He asked, and Bucky’s humming ceases. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly, leaving it at that. 

“I tried to enlist after high school. I uh… have too many health problems,” he explains, and Bucky nods, looking up at him, trying to keep his face impassive. 

“I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, that was probably a good thing. A lot of my friends didn’t make it back, those of us who did… we all left something there,” he says darkly, shaking his head before turning back to the flowers. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Steve says, and Bucky smiles again. 

“Although, I guess I couldn’t have been a cyborg without having lost the arm,”

He looks up just to take in Steve’s shocked expression. He stares at Bucky with wide, alarmed eyes. Bucky just laughs, lifting his left arm and wiggling the silver fingers. 

“Holy shit,” 

“I know, right. It works almost as well as normal arm, and I don’t need to carry a bottle opener,” he says cheerfully, placing a new rose into the arrangement. 

“That’s… I’m sorry. About your arm,”

“It’s fine. Can’t control what happens, we can only control how we react,” he recites dutifully, nodding once. 

They sit in silence for a while after that, neither of them speaking until Bucky had finished the arrangement. He stands back, admiring the work before pulling out his phone and snapping a picture. 

“You done?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods, looking over at him. 

“Yeah, want a quick flower lesson?” he asks, and Steve comes forward, nodding, “Alright, well, I used yellow roses, purple irises, purple carnations, and a few bells of Ireland for a pop of green,” he begins, “Purple and yellow is a pretty popular cuz they’re-”

“Complementary,” Steve finishes, and Bucky raises his eyebrows, “Oh, uh… I’m an artist,” He explains, blushing azalea again. 

“Oh, that’s cool,” He says before continuing, “So yellow roses, they mean friendship and optimism but also wisdom in some eastern cultures,” he explained, “The irises mean royalty, respect, and compliments. The carnations mean capriciousness,” he says next, and Steve snorts, hand moving up to cover his mouth, “thought you might appreciate that one, the bells represent good luck and prosperity,” he finishes, nodding once. 

“Wow, that’s really cool. I didn’t realize that flowers meant things,” he admitted, and Bucky’s entire face lit up.

“Yeah, there’s a whole language. You can tell a complete story beginning to end with flowers,” he says warmly, looking down at his arrangement fondly, “They’re really something,” his words are reverent. 

“So, what’s your favorite flower?” Steve asks, pulling out his credit card. 

“Oh, I like tulips. They’re so classic, so pretty,” he says fondly, smiling, “Do you have a favorite flower?” 

Steve thinks for a minute before speaking, “My Ma always like primrose. I guess I might have gotten that from her. I draw them a lot,” he says, and Bucky’s expression softened.

“I can’t live without you,” he says, and Steve is clearly confused, eyebrows drawing together, “It’s what primroses mean,” he added by way of explanation, ringing up the arrangement. 

“Oh… that’s so nice,” he says, something wistful twinkling in his eyes. 

“It is. That’ll be 50$,” he says, watching Steve pay. He hesitates for a moment, “Wait here for a minute,” he says, jogging back into the back room. He returns with a small flower in his hand. He smiles, lifting it, “Can I…” 

Steve nods although he isn’t sure what Bucky means. Bucky reaches forward, tucking the daffodil behind Steve’s ear, smiling warmly at the smaller man in front of him. 

“What is it?” 

“A daffodil,” 

“What does it mean?” 

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just shrugging, “I can have your arrangement delivered if you want,” he says instead, and Steve just shakes his head. 

“No, I can take it. Thank you, Bucky,” he adds, and Bucky nods, watching him leave.

Two weeks later, Bucky is in the backroom, tending to some of his flowers when he hears the telltale ding of the front door opening. He sighs, wiping his hands off before going out front, “Hey, what can I-Steve?” he says, and Steve smiles at him sheepishly, hands in his front pockets. 

“Hey, Bucky,” he says softly, and Bucky Smiles back at him, walking over and leaning his weight on the counter. 

“You’re back soon. Did your friend like her flowers?” He asks, still nervous that she hated his work. Steve nods immediately, easing Bucky’s anxiety. 

“Yeah, she loved it. She kept going on about the irises,” he assured, looking down at his feet. 

“That’s good… so what can I help you with?” He asked, and Steve shrugged, sighing. 

“I was… in the neighborhood,” He says dumbly, and Bucky just nods. 

“Do you want anything?” He asked, and Steve nodded slowly, looking around. 

“Surprise me?”

Bucky nods, disappearing into the storeroom for a minute, returning with a beautiful pink flower. He hands it to Steve, smiling. 

“Wow, it’s pretty. What is it?” Bucky hums, running a hand through his hair. 

“It’s a camellia,” he offers, “Free of charge. My gift to you,” he says sweetly, smiling down at the blonde man. 

“Thanks. I don’t mind paying for it though,” he offers, reaching for his wallet. Bucky waves him off dramatically, shaking his head. 

“No, no. Really, what’s a flower between friends,” He says casually, leaning into the following silence. After a minute, Steve steps back stiffly, nodding once. 

“Well… I’ll see you around, then,” he says, and Bucky says his goodbye, watching Steve walk away. 

The following week, Steve returns, cheeks already flushed pink. Before Bucky even says anything, he dips into the back, returning almost immediately with a gardenia, offering it to him. 

“This one’s a gardenia. It’s another one of my favorites. Underrated, I think,” He says, and Steve just nods, staring at him for a minute before letting out a shaky breath. 

“Thanks… it was a long morning. I just needed to get out of the house, he explains, and Bucky nods in understanding, quiet for a moment before disappearing into the back, returning with a small potted carnation. 

“Here. They’re really hard to kill, and they grow pretty easy. If you need any tips on maintenance, you know where to find me,” he says, and Steve nods, confusion evident on his face. 

“I don’t-”

“It’s a gift, a friend to keep you company on hard mornings,” he explains, “It’s mine, so take care of him. Hey, if you name him after me, and he starts looking bad, I’m probably not doing well,” he adds, and Steve stares at him, dumbfounded. 

“I thought you said you weren’t a witch,” He argues, and Bucky laughs, throwing his head back.

“I’m not a witch. I just listen,” He reminded, smiling down at Steve fondly. A few minutes later, Steve nodded once, turning on his heels and going towards the door, “I hope your afternoon is good, Steve,” 

“Yours too, Bucky,” he hears before the door shuts, leaving the older man staring after him curiously. 

Three weeks later, Steve stumbles into the store, walking over surely. Bucky jogs to the back, returning with a red tulip, offering it to Steve. Steve takes the flower, examining it before looking up. 

“I need help,” He says, and Bucky nods, surprised by his serious tone, “I want to get a flower for this person that I’m interested in. He likes me, I think. I want a flower that says I love you too,” He says sternly, and Bucky nods, forcing himself to remain impassive. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he says, returning a moment later, “It's ambrosia. It means ‘your love is reciprocated’,” he says, and Steve nods, finally smiling. 

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” he agrees, and Bucky nods, trying to hand it to him. 

“Here,” but Steve shakes his head, pulling out his wallet. 

“Keep it,” he says casually, “How much do I owe you?” Bucky frowns, shaking his head. 

“I don’t understand. If you don’t want the flower, why are you paying me for it?” He asks, and Steve chuckles, looking at him incredulously. 

“Unrequited love. Longing for you. Secret love...enduring, timeless love. You aren’t exactly subtle, Buck,” He says. 

“Oh,” He says, cheeks tinging a light pink color. He holds the flower close to his chest, smiling down at it, “For me?” 

Steve laughs, nodding, “Yeah, I figured we could go on a date? Maybe to the botanical gardens? You can teach me about the flowers,” Steve offered, and Bucky nodded, smiling widely. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, taking two dollars from Steve before setting his flower down, writing his number on Steve’s receipt. 

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at 11? On Saturday?” he said, smiling when Bucky agreed, “Oh, and Buck? What does the tulip mean?”

“Believe me. I love you,” 


End file.
